Wednesday, December 29, 2010

a cool night-bloody orgy blue light carnal, red-fountains of love-fluidcries of excess-passion-screaming agonyburdenrelease-remised-remission-a tease no longer than your finger tugging my hair pulling me in through the airless room around you the night-drunken-blurred fighting-dramatics and biting loversothers strangers-you two me and him all lusting for the same thing-person-girlslutghost. I think I feel the most desperately hopeless in the moistness of my eyes in the warmth of her words this damp hole in the ground terror-doom-eternal emptiness in the caress of deaths greeting our last chanceless meetingfleeting glance at my impossible-dream-gleaming sword of the truth-what a jokelife’s a lie revealed, impressionist illusions-ahhh course haired-grass-rotten path earthy laughter of my massive brother my lingering growth lungs filled with stunned gillnet-hooks cooked like Tess's salmonprobably the best seafood ever other then in pictures and books techno-color-plastic covered coral and yellow-black-angelfishforever bumming a ride strumming these rusty stringsbanging a tired hide with my roughened bare hands severing the hair-bands of my spiritual-tailhopefully these words telling all possible for simple symbols to convey (to you)clearer skinned skies and my reddened orbs dry and itchy why do I absorb depression and attract dysfunctional children?my nunchaku lesson-a blessing-an eighth-an exchange of faith-for the faithless reverends beat master-bike builder-ninja skilled nerd-skaterstoned warrior-armed to the teeth with glassserotonin ronin-roaming the townhood all, altered mind like the changing seasons, his summer filled with sun, spring-guns-winter-cold hand holding teenagers desperately grasping for warmth even though its 80 degrees in Honolulu

Sunday, December 26, 2010

Saturday aching numbness ahh dead beat street bedpan begging man cut at the feet of a broken pane shards of his crystal eyes blue hazed raining lemonade oxidizing the group ethic of panic we lack wit to come upon a fat token in path but keep toking and walk past with my roach-clipand zipped up eyes unzipping dirty denim revealing my venom filled syringe of flesh penetrating lids and burning dark circles into them sacred Sunday morning at the hourmy offering on the cloth thanks to digital illusion againI have been tricked into the tiny death by the slick whip of ideas and your warm sighpull me into dreams with intimate imagery your face and body, surrealistically beautiful in my minds eye to think that I could never be with you makes me want to die now quickly in this empty bed of cum and sweat is it really so impossible? do I chase in circles for ribbons of a mirrored self-reflecting sunscreen?I try to apply the lotion slowly but I’m busy in the blue moonlight howling down the valley to all other brothers in arms step up and stop fucking it for the rest of us I try to stay away and stop thinking of you but what use is lying alone to myself?

I am a perfect Asian mandrinking my tea on a bamboo table I’m watching the rain wash old ways awayeroding Eros growing greenhouse gases diluted oceans spiked with sewage and plastic I am a simple minded American with my coffee and blank stare a native of the continent with stoic eyes, searching for a god that’s not there I am an Irish immigrant with my pale skin and generational povertya French baron in a wagon wheelin’ to the northwest I aman Apache warrior a confederate soldier anda Japanese farmer my blood has converged the world over the axis of migrating sex and oppression but wherever cut I’ve bled into the land that birthed meunderneath we’re all red and blue our eyes are hues of illusion shifting back to a simpler fiction, and a less conflicting beverage to be sipped in my humid Hawaiian home

Friday, December 24, 2010

fixed on eyes waning, waxen vixen seduction, manipulation, stimulategrowing profit in erectionsnew phalluses on the blockoh ever turning cock-sucking townand metro clock I am a product of your disease a rat of your gutter and a child of your mother my home, down belowevery wet roaming day where no one goesdon’t slip, or tip my foes don’t stub your toes I’ll make some toast and show you the sights tonight we’ll feast on the beasts of darknessand worship our pale new gods fluorescent light oh neon prophet brother! oh gaseous fuming junker, japanese car maker and speeding kids on Eelementary psychedelic practice with a high acidity just a dropout with a vial dropping only to hold me, dilation lonely loveless nation of hedonist and neo-Buddhist nihilist we’re heathens holding on to a way older then this destruction I walk to sacrifice myself on a path of love at the junction

keep patterns closedon’t forget the geometry of our rhythm run fast down the traillet the trees rush past and dance in the breezelike music the singing Douglas chasing you through a vast field of nothingnessand I’ll never catch upnever touch the top of your highest peakbut the climb never mindsmy life is in utter vainI feel no pain when I’mhome againin your distant presence aura, your scent’s sending me wild because I know your flora’s close and I don’t fear death

Thursday, December 16, 2010

bus stop sketch recorded via shitty cellphone-------------------unwillingly waiting for the necessity of my return a place to sleep tonight and more then just burnshit eat live dreamwhat makes it worth the troublewhen every beauty is a fragile mask hiding loathing and death?I try to find the joy in its continuance with each breath, each nuanced beat and poor bored disheartened kid on the street lookout roadsidehardened landscape, you luscious flower! I'm simply lusting to devour you but find it so hard to trust illusions so pretty useless, and vain, don't question whyits so fucking hard loving anything in this city